Farewell to Violet
by You.Are.Me
Summary: Kyoya is fed up with his dead end future. Rated for suicide. Playing more on the friendship of Tamaki and Kyoya rather than a relationship, but it can be taken either way.


**Went through and fixed all the typos and everything, sorry they were there in the first place, my Kyoya muse is so fleeting I have to type really fast and sometimes end up making silly mistakes. :p That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Also elaborated on some thoughts and things since I understand Kyoya better as a character now than I did then. Feel free to review! And bring a flashlight, this fic is dark!**

**~TKTKTKTKTKTKTKTK~**

I wouldn't call myself a know-it-all, but I did always believe myself to know much more than most. I observed all I saw, figured things out on my own, and researched everything else that I couldn't. I considered knowledge to be much like carrying a flashlight or pocket knife with you- knowing things can help you to stay prepared for any situation. Being prepared for a situation helps me to keep it from ending badly. But I suppose when one is suicidal, a bad ending is what you want.

I had always thought that suicide was something that one pondered for a long time. In health class we had learned there are warning signs one can see in a suicidal person, indicators which can help save a person's life if noticed by friends or family. My conclusion had been that if there is time to see warning signs, suicide must be a well-thought-out process which one considers for a period of time before acting on.

But now here I sat, alone in my room on the end of my bed, with gun in hand. It had only taken one short moment to make the decision, and retrieve the firearm from my bedside table. Being of such a respectable family I had been given the weapon for protection purposes by our security team, and always kept it near my bed in case of emergency. Even in my darkest moments I could still find the irony in the fact that my own gun, given to me to protect myself, would now be the one to slay me instead.

The only reason it hadn't already was because I sensed that something was incorrect. I felt as if I was doing this wrong, and in my opinion if this was going to be the last thing I was ever going to do, I had to do it right. 'Always the perfectionist,' I thought bitterly to myself. As if it would even matter. But what exactly is one 'supposed' to do when killing oneself? Where should you do it? How should you do it? What should you leave behind?

I decided that I should write a note before killing myself, because that is what is expected of a suicide case. I set down my gun and moved to my cluttered writing desk, pulling out a piece of paper and taking a pen up in my hand- but then I froze. Who was I supposed to write to? My family? I hardened at the idea. My father and my brothers didn't deserve an entire letter from me when they themselves had never given me anything. I had always been at the bottom, destined to live in the shadows of greater people, no matter how hard I tried to be perfect. Straight A's, an active school life, all the right friends, and no kind of bad reputation never meant anything to my father, though I only ever did it for him. And my brothers? I wasn't sure they even knew my name.

They were the reason I would have a bullet in my head tonight.

But if not them, who was there to write to? I had no family. I had no friends… but, there was the club, I suppose. I thought a moment about our Host Club. Without me, who would keep the little order I did? Who would keep the twins from getting into too much mischief? Who would keep Hani-sempai's sweets from running out? Who would save Mori-sempai from the ridiculous outfits Tamaki put on the rest of us? Who would make sure Haruhi paid back her debt? And for Tamaki- well, I did everything for Tamaki.

But I couldn't dwell on that, or them. They would find someone new to take my place- if I was irreplaceable, someone would have told me so by now. But should I write to them? I stared down at the blank page a moment, foot tapping impatiently against the leg of my chair. Then slowly, I set down my pen and stood once more. Somehow, I couldn't imagine anything to say to them, and I couldn't imagine such bright people holding anything so dark.

'The Host Club is no place for a suicide note' I thought to myself, returning to my seat at the end of my bed.

Slowly I took up the gun in my hand and stared down at it a moment from my wire rimmed glasses. This was it. These were the last moments of my life-

Suddenly, there was knocking at my door. I pulled my eyebrows together in aggravation, annoyed I had been interrupted while trying to have a profound moment before I died. I glared over at the door from where I sat, not willing to get up and answer it. I didn't want to talk to anyone in a moment like this- and anyway, who would be bothering me this late!

"Kyoya, its Tamaki, let me in~! I know you're in there- why aren't you picking up your phooooooone!"

I glanced for a moment over at my cell phone, which I had thrown down on my bed in a rage when I had first stormed in here and decided it was time to die. The screen was aglow and I did indeed have 7 new voicemails. I rolled my eyes- Tamaki could be so annoying.

"Go away Tamaki, I'm not in the mood for your annoying antics."

I called, not moving from my position at the end of the bed.

"No, Kyoya, I wanted to tell you about-"

He burst in the door then froze, taking in the dark room and my position on my bed, his eyes finally coming to rest on the gun gripped in my hand.

"K-Kyoya?"

I stared down at the gun rather than looking at him, feeling somewhat ashamed to have been caught like this, and also agitated he had interrupted such a vital moment of mine. I was so close to not having to deal with this, but now I would have to get rid of him somehow before killing myself.

"You shouldn't come bursting into people's rooms like that, especially when they've already told you they don't want to see you."

I chided, as I always would have, as if this moment here with the gun was no different from any other. Tamaki, still frozen, asked as if he hadn't heard me,

"What're you doing with that gun?"

I sighed, replying quietly,

"Something I should have done much sooner than now."

"No, Kyoya-"

He took a step closer and I threw my head up to glare at him from behind my glasses, growling

"Don't come any closer!"

Tamaki froze once more, looking upon me with fearful violet eyes- the eyes that looked so much like his mother's, the eyes that were bright when he was happy and watery when he was sad. This was going to be one of the last times I ever saw those violet eyes and for just one moment the gravity of this decision began to dawn on me: even as a wall of glimmering tears began to drown them those violet eyes felt more piercing and real than the cold metal in my hand and I realized that there actually _was_ something in this world I would miss. But it was too late for epiphany now. Quickly my anger swallowed up the moment of clarity and it disappeared like the sun behind a wall of clouds.

"But Kyoya, why would you ever do this?"

"Why?"

I spat, suddenly feeling furious, gripping the firearm in my hands tight enough to turn my knuckles white as I thought back on why it was there in the first place.

"Why not! I have nothing to lose. I'm not important and never will be- the only way my father will pay attention to me is if I die! And maybe my brothers will be made aware of my existence when they get invited to my _funeral_!"

"But Kyoya, that isn't true- you are very important."

Tamaki took a small step closer.

"Without you, I would never have gotten the hang of living around here. Without you, I wouldn't have learned that shiza aren't in Kyoto, or how to persuade everyone into joining the club, or that my mom is in good health!"

"Anyone could have done that."

I shot back.

"Anyone could have told you about Japanese culture or traveled to France or told you about the twins and Hani!"

Tamaki shook his head.

"No, Kyoya, that isn't true…"

I set my jaw, glaring down at the cold metal in my hands.

"You just don't get it Tamaki! No matter how hard I've tried, I've never been able to be anything above average! Anyone can be me! I've accomplished nothing in my life that couldn't be done by anyone else- the weight of constantly holding my brothers up has brought me down so low that no one will ever notice me."

Hot tears burned at my eyes, but the nagging embarrassment at the back of my head was the least dominant of all the emotions I was feeling.

"All I've ever tried to do is make a future for myself that I, and my father, and the rest of the world, can be proud of. But I see now there is no future for me."

A burning tear ran down my cheek and landed on the gun in my hands at which I was staring. But suddenly, there was a warm hand brushing away the few tears at my cheeks. Gently it guided my chin up, and again I was looking into those deep violet eyes, ones so warm and understanding I felt I was being hugged even before his arms were wrapped around me.

"Kyoya…"

I huffed into his shoulder, embarrassed to be seen like this and agitated at myself for letting it happen, but also too upset to actually pull myself away from my friend's embrace. Instead I turned my head slightly to hide my face against his neck, so my tears wouldn't be seen. Gently he coaxed the gun out of my hand and threw it aside before pulling me closer, stroking my hair gently.

"I'm so sorry you feel this way. But, hasn't our family taught you that there is more to a future than how much corporate footholds you have, or how much money you accumulate? Your brothers are trapped in a cold hearted lifestyle, while you are free to build real relationships, ones filled with love. You and I both know that if you had a choice between our family and your family's company, you'd choose the one your heart has been with every day after school for the past 2 and a half years."

I sat back, head still hanging in my hand to hide my tears as if he didn't already know they were there. His words were true but they were hard to swallow. It was obvious I had already chosen what kind of life I wanted to live but making a choice and actually following the decision were two different things. A part of me still felt cheated by my father- he had fixed my eyes on a prize he knew I would never have, forced me to live the life of an aspiring patriarch although I would never actually play a role in the family. I would do anything in the world to make him proud- but at what cost? My freedom? My happiness? My life?

Tamaki placed a hand on my shoulder, saying sincerely

"Stop worrying about your future, Kyoya. You're over thinking it. You've put your heart into the Host Club, and it's kept you happy every day since. Why would your future be any more complicated than that? You're smart enough to know what is good and right for yourself and for the people you care about, so all this stress about your future is like stressing about the answer to 2+2."

The tears finally stopped falling, and I took a deep breath. The air in my lungs felt good. I felt alive. I raised my head slightly to peer up at Tamaki through my glasses.

"This may be the only time I'll ever say it, but- you're right, Tamaki."

He smiled at me a long, genuine smile, the kind that only ever seemed to come out when he and I were alone. I was the only one who ever got to see the difference between a host smile and a smile for a best friend. We just peered at each other a moment in relief before a switch was flipped and Tamaki hopped up.

"Now come outside with me- I want to show you a new trick I've taught Antoinette!"

He smiled brightly at me as if nothing had just transpired, offering me his hand. For a moment I just peered into those violet eyes I had come to know so well, before accepting the hand I was offered.

My future was here.


End file.
